A Woman in Black Giblet Parts
by xxbrokenbass
Summary: When Chris Masters becomes one of many whom mysteriously disappear off the map after the death of Chris Benoit, Chris Jericho decides to play the detective and get to the solution of the problem… however all is not what it seems…


**A Woman in Black Giblet Parts**

Disclaimer: I don't claim to own anything- Panto season, A Woman in Black, Russell Brand, WWE…I am simply using the tools provided by my television box to provide Fan Fiction… I do however claim to own pure absurdity/ chaos though! They were my favourite Christmas presents…

Authors note: As it is Christmas, I believe a little Panto homage should take place… this story is therefore in the name of "A Woman in Black", Russell Brand and pure absurdity. I would also quickly like to point out that this story is not meant to offend anyone personally; if it does I do apologise as it's not meant to be taken that way!

**Part 1: My Introduction to His Madness **

_Staring the rampantly repulsive Chris Benoit in a little (big) lacy number roid racing alongside the snobbishly snooty suspension that is Chris Masters who for 60 days and 40 nights "entertained" his now suicidal stuffed cat Mr Biggles...the poor sod had to put up with Master Master's moonlighting merriment... and Chris Jericho whose talent we had to pay ALOT for in coppers and shillings and pennies...no pounds. We're too poor and still trying to convert the lot to Canadian...he might not feature for a while folks...We… I do mean I really, I just like referring to myself in the third dimension... don't really speak Spanglish or Frenchanadian...apparently that was important. _

**ANYWAY!**

_Let's get on with the story…_

It was a cold dark night upon the top of some Santa Monica hill in Los Angeles, California… thunderbolts and lightning rumbles were crashing down the hill and rolling off into the blue beach yonder… upon this angry young hill was Chris Masters house. A fine house it was too, born 27 years ago to a Skateboarding mother and father from Sacramento, Sac… somewhere in America… the house had wheels and an electric scooter beside it. Largely the house was "New Rage"…which meant it was done up in lime green, lemon blue and coconut pink with a smidge of deep red and brilliant coma white. This was the house in which Master Masters resided at and one house which would prove to be his downfall…

**MEANWHILE IN NEARBY LOS ANGLES**

Chris Jericho…rock star, movie star, radio star, sometimes wrestler…sometimes a star's star... HAD ARRIVED! from the withering heights of Winnipeg, Manitoba…somewhere in Canada…to Los Angles Airport…in a pair of oversized white framed sunglasses, a grey pleated overall coat which reached down to his knees and was broken up in the middle with a waist belt (which is of no particular use other then to be fashionable), black skinny jeans and thick white open toe sandals… he is followed by two small bald men carrying two rather obscenely large red handbags…

"AHH I am here! And I'm here to save you Chris Masters Masters!" bellowed Jericho to nobody in particular… he just likes to be important and all that…

"Uh sir?" Piped one small man from behind the red handbag…

"What? You crazy cat fellow! Speak now or forever hold your custodian peace." Replied Jericho as he gave out "SaveUs.222" leaflets out in a dandyish manner to any poor soul who would so much as look in his direction for a second.

"Master Masters doesn't live in LA"

"Oh crap… is it on the map?"

"Um…well actually its only 40 miles due south on Santa Monica Hill"

"Well that's not a long walk now is it? Lets get a marching my good fellow crazy cats!"

"My name's Barry sir…"

**MEANWHILE BACK IN SANTA MONICA HILL…IN THE ANGRY HOUSE…**

**The ****Robotic Dramatic Monologue**

"Dum. De. Dum. Dum. Dum. Here I am. Suspended and Mopping. Up my floor. Ridding some really. Stubborn Stains. At zero. Two. Hours. In a pinny. It gives so much FREEE… e. e. e. DOM"

(pause for breath…and recoding. Damn Masters always forgets his lines)

"so don't mind me. I'm just cleaning. Nothing. Suspicious here."

"For fucks sake…CUT! Human android Masters you are supposed to act NATURAL so as the audience is THROWN OFF!"

"Look Mr. Director I'm finding this role extremely difficult to act out-"

"don't think about the role, just play it!... and for the record Mr. Masters Masters would not refer to a pinafore as a "pinny" nor would he clean at 2 o clock in the morning… 2 o clock in the afternoon and refer to the pinny as a SUIT! Okay?"

"Affirmative"

"Action in 3-2…"

"Oh my God its him again!" said Chris Master Masters to Chris Masters, Master Masters enjoyed role-playing as a director and his creation of a robotic self was among his favorite actors next to his blow up doll of himself and an action figure of (yep you guessed it) HIMSELF. The vain bastard is just not happy with a mirror…

Suddenly out of no where a gummy gap tooth smile appeared in the wall… it was the mouth of former WWE superstar Chris Benoit… upon sight of his smile, anyone who saw it… would face the instant mangled finger, on a string, of doooom! and also faced disappearing of the face of the map upon the sight of Chris Benoit's head in a baby pink bonnet…

_Good times no less?_

**MEANWHILE BACK IN LA **

-2 HOURS LATER-

"KEEP MARCHING MY MINIONS CARRY YOUR MASTER TO MASTER MASTERS HOUSE!" bellowed an exuberant Chris Jericho who had tied his jacket around his neck and was balancing on his bald companions shoulders as they also carried the obscenely huge red and yellow handbags… they weren't so much as marching… as crawling…

"WE ARE ALMOST THERE!"

_Yeah sure they were… at this rate this is gonna be one loooong story!_

**CUE THE INTERLUDE... we'll be right back!**


End file.
